Bluestar's Demise
by Ivy Swish
Summary: Basically what my interpretation is on Bluestar's thoughts after she went crazy. A bit short, but R/R anyway!


Tigerclaw started at me, his amber eyes gleaming. There was about him that suddenly seemed different, something unpleasant and ominous that filled the very walls of my den.

I drew my breath. "We can worry about that later, Tigerclaw. The Clan needs us now."

For a few heartbeats there was no reply. Tigerclaw unsheathed his claws, and lifted a paw. It almost looked like he intended to attack me…

"Tigerclaw? What are you doing?"

An answering snarl. "Remember me to StarClan, Bluestar."

I felt my own heart drop to the bottom of my paws in dread, and felt bile rising up in my throat at his foul words. Still, I choked out, "Tigerclaw, what is this? I'm the leader of your Clan, or have you forgotten that?"

Some foolish part of me hoped that this was just a misunderstanding…Great StarClan, don't let this happen…not to me. Not again.

All hoped vanished as Tigerclaw growled, "Not for much longer. I'm going to kill you, and kill you again. As many times as it takes for you to join StarClan forever. It's time for _me_ to lead this Clan!"

He lunged at me.

I could not breath. This wasn't happening. It wasn't.

All the same, I tried my best to claw at his shoulder, but my vision was blurred with tears and something else. It took a while me to realize that it was blood; my deputy's blood. Tigerclaw scored his claws sown at me, his eyes filled with hatred and evil with his long claws attempting to score down my belly.

I gave up my kits for _this_?

Fireheart came to my rescue, but it had already been too late. I had been wounded in more ways than one. Tigerclaw had been a trustworthy warrior, or so I had thought. How could I trust anyone in my Clan, knowing that somewhere behind those seemingly faithful eyes, there was only lies and more pain? How could I go back, knowing that every cat in the Clan could be just as cunning as Tigerclaw, or worse?

I see it now. No one in the Clan cares for my well-being, they only care for their selfish selves, for their own power. They were all as bad as Tigerstar; how could they not be? After all, I had thought Tigerclaw was a good warrior up until now, when he was revealed as a murder and a traitor. Goosefeather always told me he should have never lived. Why had I not listened to him?

Oakheart and my kits were not like that. They were….my kin, carrying the loyal and faithful blood Moonflower and Snowfur had had. Why was it that I was cursed to lead these traitors, instead of more cats that were like them? Why was StarClan so cruel to me?

I growled, letting my claws sink into the filthy moss of my den. I no longer cared for my Clan; they had never cared for me, and that was just fine. They could rot in StarClan for all I cared. They deserved to go to StarClan, a place where there is no end to the lies and betrayal of cats, who had promised me that I was a fire who would blaze through the forest. A fire! What a joke! I was nothing more than a gullible cat who gave up her mate, her kits, her whole life for the sake of this rotten, wicked Clan. I was a fool.

Even Fireheart was a traitor, deliberately going behind my back to stop the battle with WindClan. WindClan! The Clan responsible for my mother's death. They all deserved to die.

For moons I lay in my den, angry and sad and half dead. There was nothing left for me on this wretched earth, nothing at all. I would starve until I died. My own kits would never even remember me.

I was…dead. And when I died, nothing would become of me.

And for some reason, that was just fine with me. Better to fall into nothingness than to join StarClan, the Clan of evil sinners!

But then, the black night when the cats of ThunderClan were going against the dog pack, something came over me. ThunderClan was the Clan I grew up with, the Clan who had raised me and made me a strong, wise leader. Where would I be without ThunderClan?

As I sped down the hill, my teeth bared, eyes fixed on the dogs, I already knew this was my end. It was over for me; I would not survive this. After moons of lying on bed and starving myself, I would never win a fight against the dogs. I was too frail, too weak.

All the same, I lunged at the dogs, and as they dragged me down into the water, I could feel my spirit slipping away into the dark sky, but not before I could say goodbye to my precious kits.

I could not have died a better death.


End file.
